


The Mercy of Mars

by Clarybell90



Series: Fallout One Shots [3]
Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Angst, Attempted Suicide, Betrayal, Caesar's Legion, Deception, Heartbreak, Implied Sexual Content, Just accept my trash, Just bad times all around, Legion wins, M/M, POV jumping, Slavery, evil courier, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:41:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22586536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clarybell90/pseuds/Clarybell90
Summary: "Jeeze boss, you're really good at wanton murder."
Relationships: Courier/Arcade Gannon, Male Courier/Arcade Gannon
Series: Fallout One Shots [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1618435
Comments: 10
Kudos: 34





	The Mercy of Mars

**Author's Note:**

> This is from my Legion sided run through. The Courier is NOT a good person. Don't expect a fluffy happy story from this. Heed the archive warnings. Otherwise, enjoy.

Raul had expected more from someone capable of getting past a dozen or so super mutants. Marius, however, isn't much to look at. He's tall, but a bit lanky. Black hair is carefully groomed, but the shadow across his chin says he'd been traveling for a while. His face is nice enough, however, some would even call it handsome. Something in his eyes, though, puts Raul on edge. Makes him remember Mexico City and the gangs that used to form there.

Still. He'd freed Raul. Heard the radio station and followed his call for help instead of turning away. It's more than Raul can say about possibly hundreds of people that have passed by.

"We going boss, or are you going to keep looking over the bodies you made?"

Marius barely spares Raul a glance. A baseball bat sits strapped on his back, blood still encrusted on the nails hammered into it. If Raul puts in the effort to look, he can see the matching marks on the mutant's face. The force needed to do that....

Raul had expected different, but maybe the more was just hiding under his nose. He watches as Marius loots the weapons from the bodies, either stripping them for parts or repairing them to better condition. A couple times he wordlessly hands over some to Raul, and it's obvious enough what he's expecting, so Raul pulls out his tool box and gets to work.

By the time they've finished it's nearly dark, and a neat little pile of expensive guns sits next to Raul. His joints ache, and his fingers feel rawer than they already are. Marius never slowed down, clearing the place of anything useful. Oddly enough, he never comes out with that robot. So naturally, Raul asks about it.

"Fighting that crazy bitch wasn't on my list of wants. It was easy enough to just fix the fucking thing and get the psycho out of my hair."

The words should have emotion. He says them right, punctuates it like any other wastelander would. Emphasizes the phrase correctly. Even puts something behind his voice that _sounds_ like feeling. It isn't though. He seems more apathetic than anything. Not angry, not annoyed, just not caring.

Really Raul should be much more wary of this man. He should turn tail and leave. No person looks at a body with such blank, yet calculating eyes. No one looks at people they just saved with the exact same expression. It's wrong and Raul should go before the man turns on him.

Yet, he has no where else to go. No one else to follow. Might as well go with Marius. What's the worst that'll happen to him, death? If so, it's been two hundred years in the coming anyways.

So Raul piles the weapons into a bag, and follows Marius off the mountain. He watches as Marius talks to the mutant at the bottom, a smart one. He seems relieved, and he watches in bafflement as Marius mimics it.

The sight sends a shiver down Raul's spine. That's why his words didn't sound right. He was copying others, and Raul saw it, but the mutant obviously didn't. Marius was used to pretending, and Raul was used to seeing things just the way they were.

He once again contemplates leaving, but then Marius turns and signals Raul forwards, and some part of Raul's brain tells him that angering this man isn't exactly smart.

Raul steps off Black Mountain with one hell behind him, and quite possibly another in front of him.

* * *

Cursing lightly under his breath, Arcade lays his head down onto the table below him. Once again, nothing. No results that said anything different than they already knew. Somehow - magically - you couldn't make stimpaks from barrel cactus. Who would have known?

Arcade tells himself that he should tell Julie this time, fully knowing that he won't. As bitter as he is about his lack of progress, he can't bring himself to pull Julie down with him. The Followers are hoping for a miracle, and despite knowing it isn't coming, the idea of crushing their hopes leaves a sour taste in Arcade's mouth.

So instead he takes off his glasses, scrubs at his eyes for a few moments, and slumps over in his seat. Maybe he'll feel better after reading something. If he asks Julie, she might even let him borrow some of her books. Maybe some Shakespeare, or if he was in the mood for something horribly written, one of those cheap romance books that some of the others like to collect.

Really, though, Arcade just wants a break. A break he knows won't be coming, really coming, for a while. Sighing, he puts his glasses back on and goes back to his chemistry set. He can handle a few more hours. If he's really that close to going insane after, well, maybe he'll go back to the romance novels.

He's writing down the same predictable results when someone enters the tent. Glancing up, Arcade finds someone he doesn't recognize.

"If you're looking for a doctor, you'll need to find one of the other Followers, I'm just a researcher."

The man raises an eyebrow, looking Arcade up and down. Ok, yes, he's dressed like a doctor. That's just the uniform, though. Most people don't go this far back in the fort anyways. Normally Arcade is left uninterrupted.

"Is there anything else you need?" He asks, trying to stay polite.

The man's eyes turn to look at the chemistry set. The way he evaluates it alone tells Arcade that he knows how to use one.

"What exactly are you doing?"

"Oh, you know. Finding alternative treatments for common illnesses and injuries. Stimpaks out of barrel cacti and other fantastic improbabilities. As far as fruitless wastes of time go, it's quite noble in its aims."

And surprisingly, the man laughs. It sounds nice, and sends a skittering warmth through his chest. Arcade hopes that it doesn't travel up to his face any time soon.

"Sounds to me like you're tired of the same things every day."

That was true enough. Arcade is bored, and anyone who bothers to look can probably see it. Doesn't mean Arcade won't keep trying for the sake of others.

"And I don't suppose you have some magic way to make medicine?" He asks, entirely expecting the answer to be no, of course not, why would a random wastelander have that.

Then he watches in dumbfoundment as the man shoos him away from the chemistry set, and starts working on something. Peeking over his shoulder, Arcade watches as he grinds up several plants while sterilizing a needle at the same time. In just a few moments, he's got a syringe full of goop ready to go.

"Broc flower and xander root both stimulate the body into healing. Most of the time they're made into power or a paste, but you can get them into a shot for something similar to a stimpak."

Arcade flails for a moment, realizing just how stupid they've been for _not_ looking at what makes up healing powder. Of course someone would realize that it could work as a stimpak, if injected. Hell, if Arcade hadn't have been so focused on cacti maybe he wouldn't have needed help figuring it out.

Still. It wouldn't do for someone who gave him actually useful information to go unthanked.

"We'll be sure to put it to good use. Would you like anything in return?" He asks because most everyone wants something. You don't come to the Followers without wanting something, whether its for help, work, or something else.

Arcade doesn't expect the man's eyes to trail down his front, before darting back up to his face. Now that he looks properly at them, they're blue and deep in a way that makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up for some reason he can't seem to discern.

"It would be nice to have a handsome doctor to keep me company," He says, lips twitching upwards in the hint of a smile.

Just like that, the warmth in his chest makes its way up to his face. Coughing slightly into his hand, Arcade hopes he doesn't look too much like an apple.

"Overt flirtation will get you everywhere, you know."

Then that hint turns into a real smile, and next thing Arcade knows is that he's being tugged into the Strip and then into the Lucky 38. From there things get blurry again, and Arcade finds himself pressed up against another body under silk covers. Actual air conditioning flows through the vents, making the contact bearable in what's normally the blistering heat of the Mojave.

A hand is running circles along the small of Arcade's back, and a set of lips are still pressed up against his neck. His whole body is in that wonderfully warm buzz that only comes after a particularly good time. It's not a feeling Arcade gets very often.

Then a thought dawns on him, and it's Arcade's turn to laugh.

"I don't even know your name."

The moment he says it he can feel those lips twist into a smirk. Arcade shudders softly as the man sits up, yet doesn't completely pull away. He tries to not think of the pooling sensation in his gut as he looks again at those eyes.

"Marius. My name is Marius."

"Well, Marius, can I just say that this was one hell of a first impression."

Then their lips are pressing together again, and the world blurs away as Marius' hands once again find Arcade's hips.

* * *

Raul resists the urge to shake his head as he watches the doctor Marius brought in stumble out of the master suite. Raul had specifically settled himself down as far as possible from the noise, and decided to bury himself into a bottle of wine in an attempt to drown out the sounds of them going at it.

ED-E beeps when the doctor turns a corner and nearly runs into him. The man pales, looking like he's seen some kind of ghost. In the time it takes him to freeze, Marius comes out of the bedroom as well, looking well and truly pleased with himself.

Raul doesn't miss the way his hands slip along the doctor's - Arcade's, he catches it in the conversation they're having, - hips. It's a possessive hold, something that normally doesn't happen with a one night stand. Hasn't happened with a one night stand, in fact. Not in the three months and five lovers Raul's known him for.

But when the Boss introduces ED-E and Arcade responds with something witty, Raul can see it. He gets the same kind of look sometimes when Raul gives a particularly good dig. A mixture between pleasure, and something darker that makes Raul want to get as far away from him as possible.

Of course, though, Arcade doesn't see it. He's too busy looking at those now swollen lips, and hastily buttoned up shirt underneath it. He honestly hopes that they don't get at it in front of him. Raul doesn't feel like spending the next hour or so in the utterly abandoned cocktail lounge.

Marius catches Raul's gaze as he's ushering ED-E away and following Arcade into the bathroom. His eyes narrow, and a chill goes down Raul's spine. Carefully nodding, Raul tries to not grip the wine bottle any tighter. A look like that only says one thing.

Say anything, and I will kill you.

Raul may not fear death anymore, but he fears the way that Marius brings it about. Knows just how much it must hurt to be beat over the head with that bat of his. Hell, he still remembers their first day at the Fort. Remembers Benny.

It took several nights to get those screams out of his head. To forget how the Legionaries cheered as Marius cut Benny's hamstrings, and from there made it hurt. No. He didn't want to go like Benny did.

So Raul downs more of the alcohol and hopes that Arcade is smart enough to run, fast and hard, the moment he sees through those fake feelings Marius puts on his face.

Somehow, though, some part of Raul says that Marius won't allow that to happen.

* * *

Vulpes Inculta prides himself on being the best frumentarii that the Legion has to offer. He's the one that gets the riskiest information from the enemy. He's the one who has caused the downfall of several profligate towns and tribes. And he's the one that Caesar sends personally, to make sure that things are done right.

So of course he was the one that brought back word of the Courier. Of someone so capable of not only survival, but also of changing the world around them. And Marius did not disappoint. Still doesn't disappoint.

Vulpes watches as he drops the weapon pieces in front of Lucius. The praetorian looks impressed, already looking the scrap over for damage. This is the third such instance where Marius has helped them, and Caesar is pleased.

At this rate, Marius will become a vital part of the Legion within the year. It's an odd realization, to say the least. Ever since the last battle of Hoover Dam, the Legion has remained quiet. Unchanging.

Of course though, there is an opening. Ever since they shed themselves of the Malpais Legate, Caesar had been in need of someone smart enough to speak philosophically with. Things that weren't just battle strategy and orders. Vulpes tried, but few have the knowledge needed to keep up with him. That is why Caesar is in charge, after all.

"If you send someone out to hand it to my companion, he will repair it for you," Marius says, drawing Vulpes out of his pondering. Lucius nods, and hands the part off to a guard. Leaning against a support beam, Vulpes watches as Marius goes to speak to their lord in hushed tones.

That brings Vulpes' thoughts to Raul Tejada. The ghoul follows Marius around like an extra shadow, fixing anything Marius hands to him. He's talented with his hands, but his mouth nearly got him into trouble on several occasions. Yet when someone actually took a swing to the man, they were swiftly met with Marius' fists.

Vulpes had asked afterwards why he had protected the same man that gave constant digs at him too.

_"I don't like people touching my things," He said, "He's useful, and I don't want anyone breaking him."_

That was all it took for Raul to be given free reign of the Fort, and of his tongue, so long as he was smart enough to keep from insulting those of higher rank than Marius. That list, however, is getting smaller by the day.

He is smart, though. Smart enough to know where he needs to stop when it comes to Marius. To know just when that mouth of his is starting to outweigh his hands. Smart enough to not go spilling Legion secrets.

After all, Raul has seen just how vicious his master can get, and no one wants to be at the mercy of _that_.

* * *

Heart pounding, Raul throws himself out of the bunker as fast as he can. Mere seconds after the door shuts behind him, the ground rumbles with the force of the explosion. Gasping, Raul puts his head between his knees. He didn't know he could still run that fast.

Smoke is already filling the air, filtering up from the air vents. It obscures his already shoddy vision, but he doesn't have to have 20 20 to know the look of rage on Marius' face.

His shoulder is burnt from a laser rifle, and the turrets had put a gaping hole through his side. Blood is splattered all over his bat, hands, and face. He looks feral.

Groaning, Raul forces himself up to help Marius hobble into one of the nearby decoy bunkers. The body of an NCR Ranger greets them. The price to pay for even entering Hidden Valley in the first place.

Lowering Marius to the floor, Raul does his best attempt at first aid. Then he proceeds to halfway burn a can of beans on the fire. They eat, they take turns sleeping, and they wake up the next morning. It's better than Raul had expected after seeing those men in power armor for the first time.

The night is all they rest for though. Marius is already dragging himself to his feet, forcing himself put the stairs. It would concern Raul, if he didn't know how often his boss did shit like that anyways. It was part of what made him a savage, his unwillingness to go down.

So Raul follows as Marius makes his way back to the entrance and forces open the door, showing nothing but rubble down below. Raul should feel sick, but instead a numbness flows through him.

He watches Marius spit on the rubble, on the graves of all those people. Raul can't help himself, he whistles, making sure his voice is thick enough with sarcasm to get that look of fury off Marius' face and directed away from him.

"Jeeze boss, you're really good at wanton murder."

The look of pure ire breaks as Marius grins, turning back to Raul. His eyes glitter unnaturally in the dim light. It sends ice down Raul's spine.

"Yes," He nods, "I am."

* * *

Arcade pauses in his work at the sound of a yelled greeting. It only takes a moment to realize who Julie is calling out to, and excited Arcade turns off the burner to meet Marius outside.

He looks rough. Dried blood is spattered all over his face, and the way he walks suggests a serious injury to the side. Raul is behind him, somewhere between hovering for support and trying to stay out of punching range. Arcade can't exactly blame him, Marius looks downright murderous.

His eyes soften, though, when he sees Arcade. Once he gets close enough he reaches a hand out and cups Arcade's cheek. That hint of a smile is back on his face.

"Everything the same in Freeside?"

"If you mean junkies filtering in and out, and the constant threat of being stabbed for someone's next fix, then yes," Arcade says, "What happened to you?"

His lips twitch just a little bit further up, "I got shot."

Instantly Arcade tries to usher him into a tent, but Marius just catches his hand. It's the same thing that happens every time Marius comes back injured. He refuses to be treated on site, and instead drags Arcade back into the Lucky 38 to make him work there. The first time Arcade had protested the whole way. Now he's just accepted it as a quirk of Marius'.

Marius winces as he lowers himself onto the spare bed. Arcade works at getting his shirt off, only to see a layer of bandages covering his skin. Seems Raul was at least allowed to do a little first aid this time.

Inspecting the wound only shows a stitched up hole, red and puffy with dried blood crusted around it. A couple of the stitches popped, and the rest are close to doing the same. Sighing, Arcade goes to get a bucket from the bathroom.

They sit in silence as Arcade works. The half sponge bath digs through the grime enough for him to safely inject some med-x, and from there it's just a matter of cleaning up and restitching the bullet wound. Its routine. Comfortable.

"Arcade?"

"Yes?"

"What do you think of the Legion?"

And just like that, Arcade's decent mood is ruined. Grimacing, he looks up at Marius' face. All he finds is a blank expression staring up at the ceiling.

"I think you already know that."

"I want specifics," Marius hums, hand finding Arcade's. Pleading.

Arcade gives in with a sigh, "I think they're insane, and Caesar is the worst of them. Independence is what the wasteland needs, not to be suffocated by a fascist dictator. Why?"

"I'm thinking about going to Fortification Hill."

Arcade jerks to his feet. Marius watches him the whole time, eyes boring into his soul. This time they don't leave behind that warm feeling. They make Arcade feel like he's being burned.

"Do you expect to find something different than you already see in the Mojave? Do you think Caesar will sweep in and fix everything, instead of destroying it?"

"Arcade."

"Caesar has nothing to offer you that-"

"Arcade," Marius interrupts, "I want to figure out Caesar's plan, and I want you at my back."

Arcade's mouth remains open for a long moment, struck silent still in the middle of a point. Now Marius' face is pleading, hopeful, and Arcade can already see what's going through his head.

Dammit. Arcade can't argue with that face. So he settles back down next to Marius and goes right back to stitching him up.

"A quick in and out, alright?"

And Marius smiles at him, a real smile. Just like that he's all warm and fuzzy inside again.

"I love you, Arcade."

"I love you too."

* * *

Raul winces as he listens to Marius' retelling of events. He had hoped that Arcade would leave. That Marius wouldn't be able to keep fooling him with fake smiles and possessive touches. He didn't.

And now he's a Legion slave.

There isn't anything Raul can do to help him now. Not with a collar, probably metaphorically but possibly literally, around Arcade's throat. It's not like Raul can go in guns blazing and save him. He hardly took down six men on his own, never mind a whole camp.

Not to mention the way that Marius is watching him. That's possessive too, now that Raul knows what to look for, but it's also a warning. ' _Be smart Raul. You don't want to end up like him.'_

So he ducks his head and goes back to work. Tries to ignore the empty feeling in his gut. Hopes that Arcade is smart enough to keep his head down too. Better that way.

It's a shock when Raul goes into Caesar's tent, likely to once again do maintenance on the praetorian guard's powerfists, only to find Arcade spitting vitriol at Caesar. His heart stutters in his chest, until he notices the easy smile on Caesar's face as he responds. After a long moment Raul realizes that it's the same expression that the warlord gets when speaking to Marius.

The poor kid is not only a slave, but now Caesar's debate partner.

Raul has to fight back a sarcastic calling to Arcade, knowing it's better to avoid notice when in this tent. He gathers his work from Lucius, and starts taking apart the weapons for repair. He gets about an hour in before the verbal sparring just a few feet over stops, and someone comes to sit down next to him.

Arcade looks rough. Bags sit under his eyes, and he's paler than he already was before being taken. Thankfully, the collar was just metaphorical, but that's the only good thing Raul can see.

"Did you know?"

It's a good question, but still to vague. Did he know that Marius is insane? Yes. Did he know that Arcade was just being used? Yes. Did he know that Marius was going to sell him into slavery? No. No he didn't. That move was a wild card that not even Raul could see coming. Marius was too possessive to do that, not without something big to gain in return.

Raul doesn't pause in his work, using it as an excuse to not look Arcade in the eyes.

"I figured he was just using you for medical care and sex. Didn't figure he'd sell you off. Out of character for him," Raul says, quietly.

"Oh really? Then what is in character for him, because I don't seem to know," Arcade spits. Looking back up reveals he's covering his eyes, glasses balancing on his knuckles. It's a pose he's seen repeated plenty of times now. Heartbreak and betrayal.

Raul puts a hand on Arcade's back as the first shudder goes through him. He murmurs soft comforts in Spanish, like his mother used to when he was young, while Arcade silently cries. Helpless to do anything else, Raul does his best to shield Arcade while he falls apart.

* * *

Arcade wakes up slowly, painfully. His glasses are off, making the world above him blurry, but it's impossible to mistake the dirty canvas above him as anything other than a tent.

He didn't die.

Trying to shift reveals his limbs are numb, and his wrists are tied to the bed he's currently laying on. His head feels fuzzy, like cotton balls had been shoved into his brain. It takes him a minute to realize it's the effects of med-x currently running through his system.

Of course, though, the med-x only puts a dent in the agony that is his torso. Arcade knows exactly how deep the cut is, he put it there himself, after all. He had steeled himself and given himself an injury that would have killed him. Should have killed him. Yet he's not dead. No, he's very much alive and very much in pain.

A hand cupping his cheek is answer enough as to how. It's a familiar gesture, one he used to welcome. Now all he wants is to put as much distance between himself and those hands as possible.

"You need to stay still, Arcade. I don't want to put you under again," Marius says, stroking a thumb underneath Arcade's eye. Arcade didn't even realize he was trying to get away until it was pointed out.

Arcade tries to muster up his best snarl and comeback, but all that falls from his lips is a broken little noise. Marius tuts, and continues the stroking.

"You almost died on me. I thought you did, for a moment there. It scared me."

Good. He's glad that Marius suffered due to him, if the bastard can even feel fear. It's entirely possible that he can't. After all, he did a pretty damn good job of pretending to care about Arcade. Still does, sometimes.

Glaring is all he can do to get his point across, though. At least, Arcade hopes it's a glare. Everything is too muddled for him to properly tell.

"Caesar has ordered me to teach several Legionaries, and a few slaves, how to preform several surgeries," The hand moves from his cheek to carefully push some of his hair back, "You will join me, once you recover enough."

Yes, obviously Arcade nearly dying is what it would take for Caesar to realize the problem with having no doctors. Naturally it had to be him nearly losing his closest 'friend', and his personal slave.

If only Marius hadn't been at the camp in his moment alone. Arcade would already be long gone by then, leaving them both to suffer.

Reality is cruel enough, though, to leave him here instead.

Marius must see the bitterness in Arcade's expression, because he leans over Arcade, forcing him to look at Marius.

"You'll be assigned a personal guard, from now on. Caesar doesn't want you to be left alone," He pauses, those blue eyes searching Arcade's face for something, "I don't want you to be left alone."

That's enough to prompt a grating laugh from Arcade. It burns, jolting each stitch in his chest and stomach. The pain doesn't deter him, and it takes Marius holding a syringe to his neck to get Arcade to stop.

"Stop fucking pretending you care. If you gave two shits about me, you would have let me die," Arcade snarls.

The slap snaps Arcade's face to the side, and the sound of it echoes through the tent. Arcade falls silent, listening to Marius' furious breathing.

But in just a few minutes, Marius calms down. He reaches over and tugs on Arcade's chin, once again forcing him to look at Marius.

"I love you, Arcade. You're mine, and I'm not letting you get away that easily."

Arcade wants to scream at him. Wants to fight and yell and hope to whatever god there is that Marius will lose his temper and finish the job. He knows, though, that that won't happen. That all he'll get for the trouble is sedated.

So instead he jerks his head out of Marius' grip, and pointedly looks at the opposite side of the tent. Marius sighs, and goes back to petting Arcade's head like he's some angry dog.

And when those hands go down, slipping to a place they haven't been in years, Arcade just screws his eyes shut and wills himself far away from here.

Another dose of med-x is given to Arcade before Marius has his way with him, but it doesn't leave Arcade feeling any less raw inside. He stares blankly up at the ceiling after Marius steals several kisses. He stays that way even as the man leaves, right as the light filtering through the canvas tells him it's day.

He stays blank and empty right until Raul comes in and puts a hand on Arcade's shoulder, whispering to him in Spanish.

At least when he breaks in front of Raul, he knows that he won't be judged for it.


End file.
